"Arkadi and Boris Strugatski. Spontaneous Reflex (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"Hello," Utm said and brought his whole weight to bear on the gate.
The gates did not budge. They were firmly locked. Metal clanging could
be heard from somewhere far. There, behind the gates, something very
interesting was happening. Utm pressed harder, moved away, threw back his
head, and with a running start, hit the gates with his armored chest. The
voices behind the gates ceased, then somebody yelled hesitantly, "Back! Hey,
watch it, don't shoot this fiend."
"Hello, how are you?" Utm said, while he took a running start and hit
again. The gates fell. The lock turned out to be sturdier than the hinges
fastened to the concrete wall, and the gates fell flat upon snow-covered
ground. Utm walked on it, passed the fleeing security guards and plunged
into the storm raging in the open field.
Utm tentatively maintained balance, walking on the broken ground
covered by a shifting sea of dry snow. A void opened under him and he fell.
Snow sizzled beneath him. He had never fallen before, but in the very next
moment he dug his hands into the ground, stretched them fully and tucked his
legs.
Having risen Utm stood looking around. Cottage lights shimmered ahead.
Nearby, to his left, three human figures loomed, and further on trucks
roared in a line towards the gates. Utm turned left. He greeted the three
people as he passed them and immediately recognized one of them to be
Master. Master could disable his movements. Utm knew this very well and he
hurried along. Master disappeared in the whirlwind of snow behind.
Utm came out on a flat leveled area. Bright lights illuminated him from
head to toe. Unwieldy steel monsters moved towards him bearing heavy plows
in front of them and stopped, as they hissed angrily.
Utm stood five steps from the first bulldozer turning his round head
left and right and kept repeating, "Hello, how are you?"
Nikolai Petrovich Korolev jumped down from the bulldozer. The driver
yelled anxiously, "Where are you going, comrade engineer?"
At this moment Piskunov appeared on the road. Ruffled, with tousled
hair having lost his hat somewhere on the field, and hands deeply thrust in
pockets of his unbuttoned fur coat. He walked around the bulldozer and
stopped in front of Utm. No more than five steps were separating them. Utm
towered above the engineer, his corrugated sides sparkled in the headlights,
his abdomen shrouded in steam glistened from moisture. The round head with
big glass eyes and protruding ears of receptors and sonar arrays, looked
like some horrible and comical mask made of a pumpkin like those used by
guys to scare girls out in the country. The head swayed at regular
intervals, eyes followed Piskunovs every movement.
"Utm," Piskunov said loudly.
The head froze in place, jointed arms glued to the sides.
"Utm, hear my command!"
Utm responded, "I am ready."
Someone let out a nervous laugh. Piskunov stepped forward and put his
gloved hand on Utms chest. His fingers hurriedly slid along the armor
feeling for the vital part - the switch connecting the
computational-analytical part of Utms brain with the power and movement
system. And something unexpected happened, unforeseen by everyone but
Piskunov, who was most afraid it might happen. Evidently Utms memory